Strangers on a Train
by Jen K
Summary: Based on Spider-man 2. The people on the train Spider-man saved meet him at different points as Peter Parker. Will they recognize him?
1. Richard

Spoilers for Spider-man 2. I hope you enjoy!

Richard Anderson didn't talk much about that day on the train. Sure, he told his wife some of the details but otherwise he kept it to himself. He replayed the events over in his mind late at night and smiled to himself. He knew who Spider-man was.

Well, he knew what he looked like at least. Although he wasn't sure he'd recognize him if he saw him again. He'd tried to hang on to the memory of his face but sometimes he wondered if his mind had altered the image, embellished upon it, over the last year and a half.

He focused on that day again. After Spider-man had saved them all on that elevated train, he passed out. And that's when all the passengers came in for a closer look. And there he was, just a boy, probably half his own age. Shortly after he came to and put on his mask, Doc Ock returned. He captured him in his weakened state and the two of them were gone. Then he and the rest of the people on the train were alone for about 45 minutes while a team of fire fighters rescued them.

While they were stranded on the train, one tough-looking young man not much older than Spider-man himself, said to all the passengers, "Look. Anyone says anything about this, anyone says we saw Spider-man's face, then I'm gonna find you. I know people, I can find out where you live and I will hunt you down. So you better not tell nobody, not the police, not your friends, not even yourself, that you saw Spider-man without his mask. Spider-man don't need any more trouble. So if I find out you've been talkin' I will make you wish you never were born."

Richard wasn't sure if that the man was telling the truth or just trying to scare them into silence. But it didn't matter. He wasn't going to tell anyone. And he assumed that no one else on the train was going to tell either. Not that it would really matter. All he could say was that he was an ordinary boy, Caucasian with brown hair and blue eyes and in his early twenties. That description must fit half a million people living in New York.

As far as he knew, no one on the train spoke a word of Spider-man's unmasking. Every time Richard saw a news report of Spider-man he smiled to himself. That man was truly incredible. He'd risked his life so often and survived so much. But Richard also knew he was one of the few who'd seen his face and that made him feel special.

Life went on for Richard. He commuted every morning by train, spent his day at the office, and then returned home to his wife and two young children. But sometimes when he was at the office he'd stare out the window and imagine what it was like to be that young boy, swinging through the city, saving the world. Richard thought that he'd never see that man again. At least never see him again without the mask. But he was wrong.

One evening, the company he worked for held a gala at the local art museum to celebrate the new exhibit they had sponsored. A wing of the museum was reserved for the reception. Richard never really liked these corporate functions, but he attended anyways. He grew weary of the dull talk over champagne and caviar. His co-workers bragged about their sports cars and kissed up to the boss. Richard needed air. He made his way to the entrance of the museum, passed the security guards and a few other individuals, mostly people who had gone outside for a cigarette. That's when he noticed a familiar looking boy. At first he couldn't remember how he knew him. And then it dawned on him. It was Spider-man.

Richard told himself that he must be mistaking. But he couldn't help getting a closer look. The boy was arguing with two of the security guards, trying to get access into the museum.

"Please, I need to get into the museum. I left my press pass at home. You've got to believe me," the boy pleaded.

"No one gets in without credentials. That's the rules," the guard insisted, staring at the boy menacingly with his arms crossed.

"I'm a photographer for the Daily Bugle. If I don't get a couple pictures of the ceremony my boss is going to kill me. I mean, he really will. Please, please let me in."

"No. Without an invitation or proper credentials we can't let you in," the guard replied.

"Isn't there anyone else I could talk to? You could call the office at the Daily Bugle. They'll back me up…" the boy was interrupted as Richard Anderson made his way over.

"He's with me," Richard declared as he took his invitation and business card out of the wallet in his coat pocket. "I'm Richard Anderson, Assistant Vice President, and this young man will by my guest this evening."

The two security guards were speechless. Richard took the boy by the arm and escorted him inside before the guards could protest.

"Thank you, sir," said the boy who seemed a bit surprised by what had just happened.

"No problem. My wife couldn't make it tonight and it'd be a shame to let a perfectly good invitation go to waste. So what's your name?"

"Peter Parker," the boy replied. "I work for the Daily Bugle."

"Really? Do you forget your press pass often?" Richard asked. He was still trying to decide if this was the same boy he saw on the train. This boy seemed disheveled and a bit absent-minded, hardly the characteristics of a superhero. Yet he seemed to remember thinking the same thing that day on the train. There was something about this boy that was oddly familiar.

"Yeah, I left it in my other coat," answered Peter.

Richard nodded, "I see." The two of them made their way down the museum corridors. Richard decided that if he was going to find out if he was right he would have to do it soon. "You know, I don't really like the Daily Bugle. It says a lot of stuff about Spider-man that I really don't appreciate."

He noticed Peter was attempting to stifle a smile, "Oh, well I don't really agree with it either. I just take pictures for them. It pays the bills."

"You know, Spider-man saved me once. I was on a train and he stopped it from going off the tracks. He saved me and a lot of other people that day. I've always wanted to thank him for that," Richard added. He noticed that Peter's eyes widened and his face grew pale at the mention of the train. But maybe he was just imagining the reaction. Richard still couldn't decide whether it really was him or not.

"Oh, that's great," Peter stuttered, unsure of how to reply.

"Well, this is the reception," said Richard as he pointed toward a crowd of people surrounding several impressionist paintings.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd have done without you," said Peter.

"It was nothing. I'm sure you would have found another way in," Richard lowered his voice and continued, "and if you ever see you-know-who, tell him thank you for me and all the other people on the train."

Peter smiled and continued toward the exhibit to take pictures. But Richard could have sworn he heard Peter mutter under his breath, "its nice to hear a thank you for a change."

Richard took one last glance at Peter. 'I'm probably just imagining it,' he thought to himself. He then grabbed another glass of champagne and rejoined the party.

Note: I have so many stories I need to update but I thought that this would be really fun to write. I'm considering writing other passengers' encounters with Peter. But I think I'll put that on hold until I work on some of my other stories. Let me know what you think!


	2. David

The subway system was very familiar to David Gibbons. He'd lived in the various stations for more than thirty years. He'd been in and out of jail and various mental hospitals, but upon release he always returned to the subway system. That was the one place he could call home.

The hospitals had diagnosed him with "paranoid schizophrenia", or something like that. And sometimes David did believe that he really was ill, that the voices he heard and the delusions he experienced were all in his mind. He usually felt this way when he was taking the pills. And though he wanted to get better, he wanted to believe that these pills were helping him, it was hard to keep taking pills when you're convinced the people giving them to you are also trying to kill you.

He'd been off his medication for a while, living in various subway and train stations, but he never stayed in one place too long. Otherwise they could find him. Because there were always people watching him, following him. He wasn't sure exactly who but he'd narrowed it down to the CIA, the Russian government, and certain members of the NFL. So David would periodically ride the trains during the day and then stay the night in a new station. That way they'd never know where to find him

But one day, when he was on the train, he experienced the most vivid hallucination of his life. Spider-man was there on the train and another man, a man with metal arms was also there. They seemed to be fighting. It all seemed so real. And then the train was going faster and there were people screaming. That's when Spider-man saved them all by stopping the train. David had heard about him before, but he'd never seen him. After the train stopped, there he was, on the floor of the train without his mask.

A little while afterwards, David remembered seeing firemen and cops. When he got off the train he was sure to avoid the police. He didn't trust them. In fact, he didn't really feel safe until he made his way back to another subway station. After considering what had happened, he brushed off the event as just another one of his crazy hallucinations. He may be insane but he hadn't lost all sense of reason. It was reasonable that the CIA was trying to capture him to put a chip in his brain or that the NFL players were part of an intricate plot to poison the water supply. That was all perfectly logical. But seeing Spider-man without his mask, that just wasn't possible, that just didn't make sense. As real as it had seemed, he realized it had to be a delusion.

But after that day his whole opinion of Spider-man changed. Before he was afraid of him. He was afraid of the government, afraid of the police, afraid of terrorists, afraid of the NFL, and as far as he could tell Spider-man was working for all of them in some way. But on that day, the day of that intense hallucination, he somehow gained a new respect for Spider-man. Because in his delusion Spider-man had risked his life and saved all the passengers on that train. And what was more, he didn't look like a government agent or an alien from another planet. He was surprisingly unthreatening. He was just an ordinary boy, and a young one at that. After that day, whether it was real or not, David had faith in Spider-man. Which was saying something, since David had faith in very few things.

A little more than two months after the incident with Spider-man, David was sitting in a New York subway station, holding a cup out for spare change. He was hoping to get enough to buy a warm pretzel at a nearby stand. But that's when he saw him, Spider-man, waiting for the next train just like a normal New Yorker. He knew it was him, he couldn't shake the image of his face. It had to be him. He just had to know if he was real this time. David got to his feet as fast as his old body would let him and he grabbed the man by the arm.

"It's you!" David said. "I know it's you."

"Excuse me?" the familiar looking man said as he turned toward David.

"Spider-man! You're Spider-man. Hey everyone, this guy here, this guy is Spider-man," David shouted with glee. "Can you believe it? I found Spider-man."

The man nervously replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're Spider-man. I saw you that day on the train. You saved us all, don't you remember? Wow, you're really him. You're real. Hey everyone, it's Spider-man. Say thank you to Spider-man," David couldn't believe it was really him but after seeing him up close, he was positive.

A crowd had started staring at David. "Shhh, please," insisted the young man, "I think you're mistaken."

A policeman who had overheard David yelling made his way through the crowd. "Is this man bothering you, young man?"

David was startled by the police officer. There usually weren't too many of them in the stations during the day. "Spider-man, don't let him take me away. The police are all part of a big conspiracy, I tell you. They want to put a chip in my brain. Protect me, Spider-man."

"No, no," replied the boy, "He wasn't bothering me. I was just about to give him some change." And the boy reached for his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill, the one and only bill in his wallet. "Here," he said as he put the money in David's hand. "This is for you. But you gotta promise to stop telling everyone my secret." Then the boy gave a forced laugh.

"Thank you, Spider-man. You're a good guy, you know. Good to see you again," David replied and shook the man's hand. He then glared at the policeman before continuing over to the pretzel stand.

As he waited in line for his pretzel, he overheard the policeman say to the boy, "You know, you really shouldn't give them money. They just end up spending it on drugs or booze, you know. It's a waste."

"Oh, well, it's worth it if he won't tell anyone else my secret. I can't have him letting the world know I'm Spider-man," the boy smiled as he replied.

"Yeah, that's a new one," the policeman laughed. "What a crazy old…"

He was interrupted mid-sentence by a transmission from his police radio: "There's been an explosion on the corner of 37th and Franklin Street. All units report immediately."

"Hey kid, I gotta go…" but when the police officer turned around, the boy was no where in sight.

David smiled as he watched the cop look around for the boy he'd been talking to, the boy he knew to be Spider-man. David had seen him dart off through the crowd quicker than humanly possible after overhearing the radio transmission. He knew where he was headed. That policeman didn't have a clue. "Those cops might be after me, but as long as they're as dumb as this one, I think I'll be alright," David said to himself and then took a bite out of his pretzel.

Note: Ok, I really wanted to get this posted even though I wrote it in like half and hour and didn't really edit it. I hope it makes sense. This was a fun one to write. And I hope I haven't offended anyone. I understand that schizophrenia is a serious disorder and I don't mean to demean those who suffer from it anyway. I attempted to treat the issues of mental illness and homelessness with compassion and a little bit of humor and I hope no one takes it the wrong way. Thanks for all the reviews and keep letting me know what you think.


	3. Carolina

Carolina Moore had been in New York only three days when the attack on the train occurred. She was the youngest of five children born and raised in a small South Carolina town. After graduating high school she took off for New York with only sixty dollars in her pocket and dreams of acting in her heart. Her real name had been Carolyn but that didn't sound like the name of Broadway actress. So she decided to change her name to Carolina as a way of holding on to a little part of the home she left behind.

She remembered watching in horror as Doc Ock attacked, throwing random hostages from the train. Her parents had warned her that this was a dangerous city and she vowed that she would go straight back to South Carolina if she made it off the train alive. But then something incredible happened. Not only did Spider-man stop the runaway train, but afterward he passed out and it was the passengers turn to save him. They carried his unconscious body to safety and then gathered round with compassion and concern. And they all promised not to tell a single soul that they had seen his face. As far as Carolina knew, they had all kept their word. That day showed her that New York was not completely devoid of hope. And in some ways, seeing Spider-man's young face was an omen. If he had the strength to stand up and defeat the villains of city, then maybe she could find the courage to pursue her dreams.

Carolina moved in with her cousin and a friend and took a part time job as a receptionist. The first few months had been pretty tough. She was rejected at most of her theater auditions. Her main problem was she was still working on getting rid of her thick southern accent. Apparently, the directors could still hear it even when she was doing her best to speak with a "normal" American accent. But things were beginning to look up for Carolina. She had earned two small parts in plays and both shows opened to warm reviews. And just recently she earned a role as the understudy to the lead of a major Broadway play.

Carolina supposed that most understudies prayed for the lead to get sick or to literally break a leg, but not her. She absolutely adored Mary-Jane Watson. Mary-Jane was the kindest, most beautiful and talented actress in all of New York. Carolina wished that she could be Mary-Jane, but she would settle with just being close to her. In fact, she even died her blonde hair red for a short period of time to be more like MJ. As far as Carolina was concerned, Mary-Jane was perfect. She'd be jealous of her except that Mary-Jane made it so hard by being overwhelmingly sweet. Most of the other actors and actresses wouldn't talk to a mere understudy like herself. But MJ always went out of her way to talk to her.

After the each night's performance, Carolina always hung outside Mary-Jane's dressing room. She was hoping to meet her mysterious boyfriend. The other actresses liked to gossip about this elusive mystery man. A few of the other girls had met him before and they were shocked that MJ would dump John Jameson, the rich, handsome and famous astronaut, for some poor nobody. But Carolina could see that Mary-Jane was hopelessly in love with whoever he was. Sometimes though, when she thought no one was around, Carolina would catch MJ crying. She would always insist it was nothing, but once Carolina pressed her for more details, "Is it your boyfriend? Are you having trouble with him?"

"No, its not that. I love Peter. But sometimes…well, I worry. Sometimes it's hard. I guess love is hard." And them she dried her tears, put on a fake smile and changed the subject. Carolina could tell that there was something more going on but knew that it was none of her business.

Tonight had been like every other performance night and Carolina had no reason to suspect that this mystery man would show up. But she hung outside the dressing room as usual. A few of the other actors walked by and she started talking with them. They invited her to go out with them and she was just about leave when out of the corner of her eye she saw MJ with someone else. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," Carolina replied. She pushed pass a few other actors and crew members to get a closer look.

MJ kissed a slender brown-haired man. Carolina couldn't quite see his face from where she stood. She hoped that he would turn around. "Peter, you made it!" MJ exclaimed after their kiss.

"Well, I missed most of the first half but from what I saw, you were amazing. I mean, you were really great. I'm sorry I couldn't see the whole thing…" the man named Peter trailed off at the end.

"I'm just glad you're ok." MJ replied sincerely. Carolina was a bit surprised that Mary-Jane wasn't upset. This was the first performance her boyfriend had attended and he didn't even see the whole thing, Carolina thought to herself. She was still hoping that he would turn around so that she could get a better look at him.

"Peter, I have to do some quick interviews with a couple members of the press. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. There's a room around the corner with some refreshments." MJ looked toward Carolina. She realized that she must have looked suspicious just standing there, watching the two of them interact. She blushed with embarrassment and was afraid that Mary-Jane would be upset with her but she was wrong. "Carolina, this is my boyfriend Peter. Would you mind showing him to the lounge?"

"Sure thing, MJ." Carolina was thrilled that MJ had trusted her with the task of looking after her boyfriend. And now she'd have an excuse to get to know him better.

Peter turned toward Carolina and held his hand out for her to shake. "Nice to meet you, Carolina. You're MJ's understudy, right? She's told me a lot about you."

Carolina gasped as she saw Peter's familiar face. She now realized that Mary-Jane Watson's mystery man was none other than Spider-man.

She shook his hand out of instinct but the rest of her body was frozen with disbelief.

"Thanks so much, Carolina. I promise that this shouldn't take long." MJ said as she headed off for her interviews. She didn't really hear anything MJ had said. She was still in shock.

"Um, I think Mary-Jane said something about refreshments…" Peter replied to brake the awkward silence. Carolina realized that she had just been standing still and staring with her mouth wide open.

"Yeah, this way!" Carolina replied excitedly and escorted Peter toward a small room with two beat up couches and a table on the side with coffee and cookies. "Help yourself. The cookies aren't really that great but the coffee's not bad."

"No thanks," Peter said. "I'm not really much of a coffee person."

Peter sat down on one of the couches. Carolina sat down right next to him with a giddy smile on her face. "I know who you are. You're Spider-man!"

Peter gave her an incredulous look and then looked around the room. No one else was there. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm mean, I remember you! I was there." Carolina lowered her voice. "I was on the train when you saved us from that weird guy with the arms. I saw your face."

"I think you're imagining things…"

"Wow. I'm sitting next to Spider-man! I can't believe it." Carolina could hardly contain herself.

"No, I'm really not." Peter replied.

"It all makes sense now!" Carolina continued, the words flying from her mouth. She always babbled when she was excited. "That's why you never make it to her plays. And that explains why MJ gets so upset sometimes. She's worried about you. Oh, I understand now. And, I mean, the other girls are always saying they can't believe MJ's dating just some ordinary guy but if they only knew who you really are!"

"Just some ordinary guy?" Peter asked, clearly offended.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. They don't know the truth. I mean, they adore Spider-man. I've heard them say so."

"But I'm not Spider-man. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Fine," Carolina shrugged. "Don't admit it. But I know that I'm right. I never forget a face."

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have a cup of coffee after all." Peter replied as he got up from the couch.

"I thought that you didn't drink coffee?"

"I don't. But I think now is a good time to start." Peter mumbled as he poured a cup for himself. He then sighed and returned to his seat on the couch. He grimaced as he took his first sip.

"You know, most people put stuff in it, like cream or sugar…" Carolina suggested.

There was a moment a silence. Peter was staring into his cup of black coffee. Then he finally asked, "MJ gets upset sometimes?"

"Yeah. I always thought it was 'cuz you weren't coming to her plays." Carolina replied.

"I know that MJ worrys a lot." Peter said quietly, without looking up from his coffee. "I imagine it's got to be hard on her. I never meant to put her through this. And she tries not to let it show in front of me. She won't talk about it with me, either. I think she's trying to be strong."

Carolina wasn't sure exactly what Peter was saying or where this was going but she listened intently. Peter continued, "And MJ can't really talk about it with anyone else. But if she had a friend, someone she could confide in, maybe it would make things easier for her. This friend would have to be really trustworthy. They'd have to understand how important this secret is."

"I promise I won't tell a single a sole, cross my heart," Carolina vowed as she realized what Peter was implying. "I haven't told anyone so far that I saw your face. You can trust me."

"I'll let MJ know that. I'm sure she'd love to have someone to talk to."

Just then, Mary-Jane approached the room, "Hey, Pete, I'm done. Thanks for waiting with him, Carolina."

"No problem." She replied brightly.

"It was nice meeting you," Peter said. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

"Come on, Tiger. Let's go get something to eat." Mary-Jane said and Peter put his arm around her. Carolina watched in awe as the most beautiful actress and the hero of the city walked away together. And she couldn't help feeling that she was going to become close friends with both of them.

Note: Thanks for all the feedback. I hope you liked this chapter. These are really fun to write but I need to work on some of my other stuff before I write another chapter. But I will (eventually) get around to a few more passengers' stories.


	4. Janet

Janet Choi tapped her feet impatiently and flipped the page of her magazine, waiting for her name to be called. She hated waiting, particularly in this hospital waiting room. It brought back bad memories. She tried to read the article in the magazine but her attention was distracted. Janet noticed a young man pacing back and forth, apparently just as impatient as herself.

The boy seemed oddly familiar. Perhaps she had seen him in this waiting room before. "You know all that walking won't make them call your name any sooner," She finally said to the boy with a smile.

"Oh, I know," the boy paused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me. You just seem uptight. Here, have a seat," Janet said as she patted the chair next to her. "Are you receiving treatment?"

"No. I'm here with my aunt," the boy replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Janet wasn't sure what else to say. It was never a good sign to be in this waiting room. The boy was clearly very concerned. "It's nice of you to come with her."

The boy nodded and stared down at his feet.

Janet decided to change the subject, "You seem really familiar. I swear I've met you before. My name's Janet."

"Peter," the boy answered and he put forward his hand for Janet to shake. "If its not too rude, can I ask you why you're here? I mean, this is the oncology unit."

She noticed the boy look down at her very pregnant belly. His last comment obviously referred to her condition. "You mean this," she said as she rubbed her stomach. "You think I'm in the wrong place?"

"No, I didn't mean to…." the boy felt he had offended her, but Janet stopped him before he could continue.

"It's alright. I bet a lot of people think I'm seeing an obstetrician instead of an oncologist. But I was diagnosed with breast cancer about two years ago," Janet explained.

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

"It's ok. I've actually been cancer free for over a year now. I'm just getting a check-up. The doctors here are great. Your aunt is in the best hands."

"Thank you. The doctors still aren't sure if it's malignant. We find out today" Peter replied.

A nurse opened the door to the waiting room. "Mr. Parker, you can come in now."

"I guess that's me," Peter said to Janet as he got up out of his seat. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too," Janet replied. She tried to go back to reading her magazine, but instead she couldn't help remembering the day she was diagnosed with cancer.

It had all seemed so unreal. She was only 34 at the time. Her family had no history of breast cancer. She couldn't believe that this was happening to her. Cancer was something that happened to old people, not to her. Her life was going so well. She had been promoted in her law firm. She adored her husband, Drew. They lived together in a beautiful apartment. Everything was perfect. That's why she just couldn't believe she had cancer.

She remembered being in shock on her way home from the doctor's office. She didn't know what she was going to tell Drew. They had wanted to have kids. But Janet's career was going so well she planned on waiting a little while longer. But now she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to have kids. She wasn't sure she'd be alive in a month. She was afraid if she told Drew he wouldn't love her anymore; that he'd leave her for someone else. As she rode the train home that day, Janet didn't think she had the courage to fight this cancer.

And just minutes before her stop, the train was attacked by a raving mad man with eight metal arms. Then Spider-man came and the two battled on the train. Considering the day she was having, she could hardly believe this was happening. Before she knew it, the train was racing out of control. She thought she might die at that moment.

But somehow, Spider-man triumphed. All the passengers were saved. But more amazingly, she remembered seeing his unmasked face and he was only a young kid. At that moment she saw how easily her life could end and how precious it was and that she wanted to live. And if this young boy had the courage to fight that mad man, to risk his life for all these people, then she most certainly could find the strength to fight this cancer head on.

Drew had been so worried after hearing about the train accident. She knew in that moment that he would stay by her side. And he had. He had helped her through the mastectomy and the months of chemotherapy. She knew that there was a chance she wouldn't make it. She had met many women who were not so fortunate. But she did make it. And even though her doctor recommended she wait a little longer before becoming pregnant she just couldn't wait. And so far, everything had gone smoothly. The baby was healthy and there was no sign of recurrence of the cancer.

The door to the doctor's office opened. Janet looked up to see if she'd be next to be called. Instead, she saw Peter exit with an old woman she assumed to be his aunt. Peter had a broad smile on his face and Janet knew what that meant even before he spoke.

"My aunt's gonna be fine, they say! It's not malignant. Aunt May, this is Janet. She kept me company while I was waiting for you." Peter exclaimed.

"It's nice to meet you. Thank you for looking out for my nephew. He gets so worried sometimes." Aunt May replied.

"You have a great nephew, you know. He really cares about you." Janet said and she saw Peter blush out of the corner of her eye.

"Thanks. Good luck with everything. And with the baby," Peter said. He took his aunt and escorted her out of the waiting room and down the hallway.

Janet couldn't quite place where she'd seen Peter before. He seemed so familiar. She couldn't put her finger on it, but for some reason he seemed to embody strength, kindness, and courage. She looked down and put her hand to her pregnant belly and she said to herself, "You know, I like the name Peter. That's a good name for a boy."

Note: Thank you so much for your patience. Again, I'm sort of experimenting with topics with which I'm not really familiar. I know a few people who have survived breast cancer but they never really talk about their experiences. I apologize for any inaccuracies. Hopefully I'll have a bit of a break and I'll be able to update this and my other stories. I also apologize for any mistakes. I reallydon't have the time to do a good job of proofing and editing my work. I hope you enjoyed it and I will do my best to update soon!


	5. Jim

It had been less than a week since the attack on the train, only a mere five and a half days since his life had been jeopardized, and Jim Callahan was back at work as if nothing had happened. It was the most frightening, and yet exhilarating, moment of his life. His life had since gone back to normal and that meant that he had to work.

Jim worked as an electrician and today he was assigned to a project at the Daily Bugle. Their main offices need re-wiring to accommodate their new computer system and Jim was called in for the task. He'd done similar jobs several times before but none of the customers stuck around while he worked. But J. Jonah Jameson was different. Jim had heard stories from his co-workers about how Jameson remained in his office while construction workers tore down the walls for re-modeling. All the while Jameson conducted his business as usual and even managed to criticize the workers in between. Jim wasn't sure he believed this story but he'd just spent the morning working in Jameson's office. And now Jim believed that every word was true.

Jim worked diligently to finish his job and get out as quickly as possible. As much as he tried, he couldn't manage to ignore Jameson. This man was possibly the nastiest man Jim had ever met and Jim knew some pretty awful people. Jameson took every opportunity to yell insults and orders at all the people around him. Jim was tempted to give him a piece of his mind. But then he realized his place and remained silent.

It was a little before noon and Jim was just about to leave for his lunch break. He stopped his drilling only to hear Jameson's voice, which was raised even louder than usual, apparently to talk over the noise from his drill.

"You are absolutely worthless. Spider-man returns and he and Doc Ock wreak havoc on the city. And you haven't given me one picture! Not one lousy picture! What am I paying you for?" J.J Jameson yelled, apparently not aware that the drilling had stopped.

"I'm sorry. I've been really busy," the boy replied.

Jim put the rest of his tools away and got up from his position on the floor, ready to leave for lunch. And as he got up he saw the boy that Jameson was talking to. This was the same boy he'd seen on the train, the very boy he thought he'd never see again, at least without his mask. The boy that stood before him was Spider-man.

"Yeah, I can see you've been busy," Jameson retorted, alluding to the bruises and cuts on the boy's face. "I'd think that you'd been getting into bar fights, but then you're not really old enough for bars, are you? Did the kids at school beat you up again?"

The boy made no reply. Instead, he stood staring silently at Jim. Jim could see that he recognized him, too. He could see that he was scared, perhaps afraid that Jim might tell Jameson the truth.

Since the boy didn't answer, Jameson turned to see what he was staring at. "What, do you two know each other, or something?"

"Yeah," Jim replied. "We're friends."

"Well, I hate to interrupt this little reunion but I'm not paying you to stand around. Get back to work." Jameson demanded. He then spun his chair back toward the boy and started up again, "I don't know what I'm paying you for, either. You're worthless. You're fired. Now get out of my sight. And grab a band-aid while you're at it."

Jim had had enough. Normally, he wouldn't have the courage to do what he was about to do. But then again, he owed this boy. "No, Mr. Jameson, you will not fire him. I've had just about enough of the way you treat people. You need to learn some manners. You might think that you're some big shot because you're in charge here, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to people that way. You'll talk to him, and everyone else, with the respect that they deserve."

"Who do you think you are? Don't tell…"

Jameson was interrupted, "I'm Jim Callahan, that's who I am. And I'm about to go on my lunch break. And when I get back, you better start treating people right. Otherwise, find yourself a new electrician."

For the first time since Jim had been in his office, Jameson was speechless.

"Come on, kid. Let's go get lunch." Jim said to the boy.

"Thanks," the boy replied as they both left Jameson's office. "You didn't have to do that."

"It was nothing. Besides, I was sick of listening to him boss everyone around, including me. And, well, I guess it was the least I could do to repay you."

The boy looked uncomfortable. "Um, what do you mean?"

"We both know that we saw each other on that train the other day. I know who you are and I get that you don't want anyone to know about it. Don't worry. I won't tell," Jim replied as they both got in the Daily Bugle elevator. "But the thing I don't get is if you're a photographer, how can you take the pictures too? I mean, that doesn't make sense."

The boy made no reply.

"Fine, don't tell me." Jim said. "I guess it doesn't matter."

"This is my floor," the boy said, "thanks again."

"No problem. Take care, kid. I mean it." And then Jim joked, "Even if you don't want to tell me about how you take the photos."

As the boy got off the elevator, he turned toward Jim and gave him a genuine smile, "You don't expect me to reveal all of my secrets, do you?"


	6. Cassidy

Cassidy Paxton sat at the park table, tapping her pencil not looking down at her math homework. Instead she watched her brothers play soccer as they often did in the afternoons after school. She didn't particularly like coming to the park and she made this point clear to her brothers. She hated soccer. It was such a stupid, pointless game. And her brothers always told her to go home then. She said that she didn't like walking home alone. Truthfully, Cassidy just wanted to be around them.

She couldn't figure out this one math problem and it was getting on her nerves. Math was her best subject, in fact she was in the advanced level math class at her junior high school, a fact that she was proud of but hated at the same time. Kids made fun of the people in the highest math class. And to further add insult to injury, her twin brother J.D. wasn't in the class. It wouldn't be so bad then, if he was there with her too. But honestly they didn't really feel like twins. They were fraternal to begin with and J.D. had lots of friends because he played sports. It was almost like J.D. and her older brother, Nate, were twins. They shared a bedroom and always hung out, even though Nate now went to the High School instead of the Junior High. She thought that would make things better. For a while it did. But something happened a few months ago that changed things and brought Nate and D.J. closer than ever.

They had been riding on the train to meet their father for a baseball game. Cassidy hadn't been invited. She didn't like baseball but that wasn't the point, they shouldn't have just assumed that she wouldn't go. The train had been attacked and Nate and D.J. often recounted for her about how Spider-man saved them. But they didn't seem to tell everything. They'd get all secretive about some points of the story and some of their facts didn't quite match up. What was more, they seemed even closer afterwards, almost like they had a secret club. Cassidy would often catch them talking together and they'd grow quiet as soon as she walked in. And there was this book that they always kept hidden. She thought it was a scrap book of some sort but she'd only caught glimpse of it. They always closed it before she could get a good look. And they hid it too. She'd snuck into their room when they weren't there and looked all over for it but couldn't find it. She desperately wanted to know what their secret was. The longer she didn't know, the more distant she felt from her brothers.

She watched her brothers playing soccer with their friends. Secretly, she harbored a crush on their one friend, Javi. But he could never like her back. Cassidy felt awkward in her body. She had a round face with chubby cheeks and lots of freckles. Her short brown hair hung lifelessly behind her ears. And to make matters worse, she was smart. No one liked the smart girls. There was a break in the game and D.J. looked over at her. She didn't want to look like she was watching them so she turned her head in the opposite direction. The park was pretty crowded today but she couldn't help noticing a young couple walking through the park. The woman was dressed in running gear and her bright red hair was pulled back in a high pony-tail that bounced as she walked. The woman was stunningly beautiful. But surprisingly, the boy wasn't as attractive. He wasn't unattractive by any means but he seemed sort of plain or ordinary. Cassidy wasn't used to this. Beautiful people only dated other beautiful people, unless one of them was rich of course. But Cassidy was neither beautiful nor rich. She doubted anyone would ever like her, especially not Javi. There was nothing more in the world Cassidy wanted than to be included in her brothers' group of friends so she could maybe get to know Javi better. But also she just wanted to be included by them to feel like she belonged, to feel apart of her family and not like the odd girl out.

She overheard the boy and red-haired girl talking. "I'm pretty tired so I don't want to run for long. No more than twenty minutes," The girl with red-hair said.

"Take your time," the boy replied and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be sitting over there trying to catch up on some homework."

"And don't worry if you have to, you know, swing off to somewhere. If you're not here I'll head back to the apartment. Just be careful." The girl added before placing her headphones on and beginning her jog. This struck Cassidy as an odd thing to say.

The boy walked over to the picnic table that Cassidy was sitting at, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"I guess not," Cassidy replied.

"Thanks." The boy sat down across from her and pulled a textbook and notebook out of his backpack and began working. Cassidy wasn't really working on her math homework anymore. She'd done most of it and was stuck on this one problem. Instead, she watched this curious boy as he worked on his homework.

"Is that math?" she finally asked. If it was it was not like any math she had seen. It was way over her head and she had always considered herself pretty good at math.

The boy look up at her, "Sort of. It's physics."

"Oh, it looks hard."

He laughed and said, "It is."

"Are you in college, then?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm at Empire State. How about you, are you in high school?"

"No, I'm in Junior High." Cassidy sighed. She didn't really like Junior High very much.

"Wow, your homework looks pretty tough for someone only in Junior High."

"I'm in the advanced math class," Cassidy replied proudly.

"That's great."

"I guess." She replied less than enthusiastic.

"You don't seem to think it's a good thing to be in the advanced math class," he stated.

"Yeah, well people make fun of the smart kids. Even my brothers make fun of me for being good at math."

The boy smiled, "I know how that is. People used to make fun of me, too. But you know what, if you have a talent you can't ignore it or let what people think get in the way. Believe me."

"I guess."

"I know that it's hard but you should be proud of being smart and eventually others will appreciate it too."

"Thanks." She couldn't explain it, but Cassidy genuinely believed him and actually felt much better. She noticed that the soccer game was over and that her brothers were headed in her direction. "It looks like my brothers are done playing soccer."

She started to pack up her things. "My names Cassidy. Maybe I'll see you here again."

"I'm Peter," the boy shook her hand. "It was nice talking to you."

D.J. and Nate came over to the picnic table like the always did to retrieve Cassidy before walking home. "Come on, Cassidy. Lets go. I'm really hungry…" but D.J. didn't continue his sentence. Instead, he and Nate were staring wide-eyed at the boy named Peter.

"It's him," Nate whispered and nudged D.J.

Peter was looking back at them. They all seemed to recognize each other and Cassidy couldn't make sense of it. "What's going on?"

Her brothers stood motionless and speechless while her new friend started to hectically pack up his school supplies.

"You know, I should be going." Peter appeared scared and she couldn't figure out why. Why would he be afraid of her brothers? She was surprised by how quickly he managed to scoop up his things and got up from the table.

"It was nice meeting you, Peter." Cassidy called out as he began to walk away. "I hope to see you around here again."

He hesitantly turned and smiled but then continued to walk briskly away.

"That was kind of rude. We're getting to be friends and he just left. What's going on, here?"

Nate's jaw had dropped, "Do you know who that is?"

"It some college student named, Peter. Why?"

"No, that was Spider-man!" D.J. replied. "I can't believe it. I can't believe we saw him again!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know that day on the train, when Spider-man rescued us? Well, we never told you or anyone else that his mask came off." Nate told her excitedly.

"Yeah, we're the ones who found it and gave it back to him! We promised we'd never tell anyone about it, though," added D.J.

"But it was him! That guy you were talking to is Spider-man!"

"No way. You guys are playing a joke on me or something." Cassidy said.

"I'm serious. I'll never forget his face. That was him!"

Nate then said, "He recognized us too. Why do you think he left so quickly? I guess he was scared we'd tell more people or something."

Cassidy still couldn't quite believe it. But then she remembered what the red-haired girl had said and it seemed to make sense.

"I think that we should make Cassidy a member of the Spider-kids." D.J. said.

"The what?"

"It's our secret club.

"That's a really lame name."

"Do you want to join or not?" Nate asked. But Cassidy knew that no matter how lame it sounded she wanted to be apart of their club more than anything.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone else about it," D.J. said and he pulled out a notebook from his backpack. Cassidy recognized it to be the secretive journal she had searched for. "Normally we keep this in our room under a loose floor board but Nate and I wanted to work on it before school."

He gave it to her and she looked through. It was full of articles and pictures of Spider-man as well as some of their drawings about the day on the train. "We're trying to gather all the information we can on Spider-man, on about who he is. Maybe one day we can find him again and help him out. But before you join the club you have to solemnly swear that you'll never tell anyone else about this and that you won't ever share any of this knowledge. We will use our knowledge only for good and don't want to do anything that could get Spider-man hurt. He saved our lives. You see, this would be very dangerous in the wrong hands so we have to protect this journal."

"Ok, I guess." Cassidy said. "Let me see it."

"First you have to put your hand on it and swear you'll never tell anyone else." D.J. said.

"Ok. I swear." She promised excitedly, ready to open the book and see what they had been working on.

"Welcome to the Spider-kids club!" D.J. said enthusiastically. Even though it sounded stupid, Cassidy couldn't remember feeling closer to her brothers.

" We'll do an initiation into the club and give you a secret code name when we get home. First, tell us everything he said! I can't believe that you were here talking with him all this time!"

"I'm not sure it was him. He didn't seem like Spider-man."

Nate insisted, "It was him! How can you forget something like that. On the train everyone was shocked by how young he was."

"He didn't say much. His name is Peter," Cassidy said. "And he goes to college."

"Spider-man goes to college!" D.J. said amazed.

"Shhhh." Nate warned them and they huddled closer together as they looked over the journal. "You gotta be quiet, D.J. We don't want anyone to hear. Now tell us more!"

"Yeah, he goes to college. And he's really smart and good at math." Cassidy continued as her brother's listened in awe. She had a feeling that things were about to change for her.

Note: Thanks for reading. And thank you to everyone who commented with thoughts and suggestions. They are much appreciated. I have few more stories in the series planned but I just need to find the time to write them!


	7. Ilya

"I wish your mother could have been here to see this," Ilya Ivanoff said to his son Alexey as he looked upon the impressive wedding banquet. "She would be proud."

"I'm just glad that you were finally able to come. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here," Alexey replied. After he had moved out of the country he thought it best to stay out, particularly now that his son was marrying the daughter of Senator Porter. He had done his best to cover his tracks, but some things can never be completely buried. And with all the media attention, he was sure to have people checking into his past.

"There's Marie's aunt and uncle. Dad, why don't you come with me? I'll introduce you."

"No, I'd don't think so. You go ahead." Ilya replied. Ilya was determined not to mingle too much with the people at the party. His son understood this and didn't object.

"I'll be back in just a minute," Alexey said.

As his son walked off to meet up with his new relatives, Ilya recognized a familiar face holding a camera. And he prayed under his breath that the boy would not come over to him.

Ilya had made a point of trying to avoid attention at the party. He told Alexey to tell the people at the party that he was embarrassed by his poor English and that was why he wasn't very social. That was a lie. Although he still had a thick Russian accent, his English was perfect. Considering his past, Ilya felt it would be better for everyone if he maintained a low profile. When he came to America as a teenager and had learned that whatever you do, you must do it well. What Ilya was best at was crime. He quickly rose the ranks and became boss of a small crime syndicate.

Ilya was retired now, after more than three decades of leading organized crime. He had vowed never to come back to the States, particularly New York, but then his son announced his engagement. Though he contemplated it, he decided that he could not miss the wedding. Ilya had worked all these years to give his son the life he deserved. He gave him a great home and the best education and eventually his son ended up in medical school. His son had achieved great things, but more importantly, legitimate things. Ilya had worked hard to distance his family from his work so that his son would have a clean name. He just prayed that his sins would not haunt his son. So far they hadn't.

In fact, Ilya had done such a good job hiding his past that the Senator's people had only recently discovered the truth about him. By then it was only a few weeks before the wedding. The Senator could not call off the wedding without arousing suspicion. Besides, his daughter was head strong like Alexey, and both were just as madly in love. They refused to let the Senator's career interfere with their marriage. So the Senator had made a deal with Ilya. He would help him cover up his past. In exchange, he asked to be in touch with a few of Ilya's former associates. Ilya had known that the Senator was never completely clean. He had had some dealings that Ilya heard about back when he was working. What was potentially a career disaster for the Senator could actually provide him powerful connections.

But Ilya almost didn't live to see his son's wedding. A little more than a year ago he had been riding the train. Ilya rarely went anywhere unescorted, but this was different. He had a meeting with _the_ man of New York, the Kingpin. His meeting was under the condition that he take certain precautions. These precautions included taking the subway alone to the station where he would be handed further instructions for the next meeting point. This was apparently the Kingpin's way of seeing whether or not he was alone. The Kingpin's men would be watching him switch stations to see if he was being tailed.

Initially, everything went as plan. But then all hell broke loose. The man the media named "Doc Ock" stormed their train and destroyed its brakes. At first he thought this was part of the Kingpin's plan. Soon he realized that it was most likely a petty feud between Spider-man and Doc Ock. Ilya cursed Spider-man under his breath. While he had never specifically interrupted one of Ilya's operations, he had made things more difficult for Ilya and New York's other mafia bosses.

Ilya could not believe his luck. He had survived so long in the world of crime, just a few months from retirement, only to be fated for death because of the quarrel between a mad man and a stubborn idealist. Doc Ock abandoned the ill-fated train, but Ilya was surprised as he watched Spider-man risk his life to save the passengers. He had heard stories about this man's compassion, but Ilya did not believe it until then. He had seen too much of the world to believe that anyone risked their own life on a daily basis with no hope of compensation. There were no good people in this world, or so Ilya had thought. While risking his life he had been unmasked revealing his face and identity to all those he had just saved. He was just a boy, younger than Ilya's own son, Alexey. Yet he had been willing to die in his effort to save people he didn't even know. Perhaps there were good, honest people in the world, however few they might be.

After the whole episode, before the police and firemen came to get them down, Ilya was surprised by another young boy's act of audacity. A young man on the train made a loud announcement before the rescue team arrived, threatening anyone who dared betray Spider-man. Ilya was still in shock at that point, but he remembered the boy saying that he "knew people" who would track the passengers down if they talked about Spider-man. He feigned confidence very well, but Ilya didn't believe for a second that he really knew anyone with this sort of power. He didn't wear any of the local gang signs. Ilya knew them all well and had done business with some of the gang leaders. Ilya knew most of the men in this town who had the capability to genuinely threaten the people on the train. This boy, no older than 25, was not one of them. He was just some punk kid trying to be a hero. And yet, Ilya was inspired by him. Like Spider-man, he too was willing to be daring in order to protect another human being. This boy didn't have the kind of power or know-how to legitimately threaten the people on the train. But Ilya did.

After he was rescued, he got the names of the cops and found out which ones were on the take. He was able to obtain the police reports and the names of all the passengers on the train. He would make sure that these people didn't talk. That was the least he could do to repay Spider-man. To Ilya's surprise, none of them uttered a word about Spider-man, at least to no one of consequence.

As he was mingling with the police for information, Ilya was also approached by one of the Kingpin's men. He was informed that due to the "incident" on the train their meeting was postponed. After the ordeal on the train he had considered retiring right then and not going through with the deal. But this deal with Kingpin meant big bucks, the kind that would make retired life all that much sweeter. So he went through with it and was introduced to the Kingpin for the first time. And when he met with him, the Kingpin asked him about the train.

"I hear Spider-man was there. Most interesting," the Kingpin said. "He's been a thorn in my side for too long."

Ilya knew that a description of Spider-man's true identity would be handsomely rewarded. But Ilya said nothing. He finished his dealings with the Kingpin, turning over most of his operations to him, and within a month he was retired and out of the country. He had done his best to repay Spider-man by keeping silent and keeping tabs on the other passengers. Ilya had washed his hands clean of the whole affair, rarely thinking about it since he left New York. He never thought that he'd see Spider-man again. He was wrong.

"Mr. Ivanoff?" the boy holding the camera approached him, "I was hoping to get a picture of you with your son. I'm from the Daily Bugle. My name is Pe…"

"Just walk away right now." Ilya replied.

"I'm sorry?"

"You've already said too much. If you know what's good for you, you'll turn around right now and walk away." Ilya did not want to be tempted. The boy holding the camera was Spider-man and he was just about to tell Ilya his real name. Part of Ilya wanted to thank him in person for saving his life but another part of him was curious to know more about him. Ilya was retired and had vowed not to do any more business, but if he was just handed information like that… Well, he couldn't trust himself.

"Look," Ilya continued. "If you want to do what's best for Spider-man, you will stay away from me and I will stay away from you."

The boy looked at him quizzically for an instant, and then silently walked away. Ilya sighed deeply, and then grabbed a glass of champagne from the caterer passing by. He tried to push the thought of the boy with the camera out of his mind, instead focusing on the sight of his son laughing with his new bride. He smiled as thought to himself, 'Yes, there are still good people in the world'.


	8. Pamela

It had been a long night for Pamela Thomas but her shift at the hospital was nearing an end. An incident in the city earlier that evening had sent several people to the emergency room. Pamela hadn't had time to watch the news reports but several of the patients had given their accounts of what had happened. They talked about some mad man who could send powerful blasts of energy through a device on his arms. Apparently the media had named him "Shocker". Victims of his attack on the city were brought to the hospital over the last few hours. Several were injured from a building that partially collapsed, while others came with burns from a car that exploded. One man, who came in later with a concussion and several bruises, informed her that Spider-man had put a stop to the "Shocker".

"There was a shoot out, too. I don't know if the police were aiming for the Shocker, if it was just an accident, but they hit Spider-man. I saw it." The man told Pamela. "He saved my life and the police shoot at him. It's unbelievable."

"I know," Pamela replied as she filled out his chart. She tried not to show it but this news greatly upset her. A year ago Spider-man had saved her life. Her train had been attacked by another mad man. The city seemed to have more than its share of crazies in costumes, but then again, she'd seen plenty of strange things in the ER.

Pamela walked over to her friend Keisha who worked as a receptionist. She was also infamous for having the latest news inside and out of the hospital. She was known to swear by the tabloids and believed Spider-man to be crook.

"Hey Keisha, you hear anything on the news about Spider-man?"

"You haven't heard? Your friend was working with that Shocker character," Keisha replied.

"No he wasn't," Pamela defended.

"I don't know why you always stick up for him…Rumor has it that the cops shot him, too. All the doctors are supposed to report any gunshot wounds to the police," Keisha said nonchalantly as she returned to her work. "I hope they catch him."

"I hope they don't," Pamela liked Keisha. She was a good person, just mislead by the tabloids and that god-awful Daily Bugle. Pamela seriously hoped that she was wrong about what had happened to Spider-man.

Several hours had passed since her conversation with Keisha and she'd heard no other news about Spider-man. They had treated most of the victims of Shocker's attack and the ER was growing considerably less hectic. Pamela was preparing to leave when she passed by the waiting room one last time. His familiar face wasn't what caught her attention. Instead, she found herself staring at the captivating red-head sitting next to him. At first she was so taken aback by her beauty that she hardly noticed the man she was with.

Then she recognized him. She might not have if she had seen him out on the street. It had been a long time since that day on the train. But she was on the lookout for him since she had heard the rumors of Spider-man being shot. And there he was, the man who had saved her and the others on the train. He was clutching his shoulder and she could see that he was bleeding. The girl he was with looked worried as she held his hand.

Pamela made her way through the waiting area over to the red-headed girl and the injured man, "Come with me. I'll get a doctor to see you now."

The two silently obeyed. The boy struggled as he got to his feet and had to lean on the girl for help. Pamela led the two toward an empty bed and closed the curtain around them. Another nurse pushed the curtain aside and insisted, "It's not their turn. I've had someone waiting for half an hour."

Pamela shooed the other nurse away. "Dr. Benson wanted to examine him as soon as possible." The nurse gave Pamela a questioning look but reluctantly nodded.

Pamela then turned back to the familiar boy and asked a question she was afraid that she already knew the answer to, "What's wrong?"

The boy had been using his coat to cover his shoulder but now revealed blood-stained t-shirt. He peeled the shirt off of his left shoulder, revealing several gauzes that were soaked through with blood.

"How did this happen?" Pamela asked.

The boy and girl exchanged worried glances. "I was doing some work around the house, and I, um, tripped and fell onto a nail."

"Is that what you told the people at the front desk?"

The boy nodded. Pamela could see the nervousness in both the boy and girl's eyes. This wasn't a very good excuse for the truth but Pamela couldn't think of anything better.

"OK. I'll be right back with a doctor to see you." Pamela replied as she hustled off.

Pamela found Dr. Benson talking with a few other doctors, "Chad. I need your help with something."

Dr. Benson gave her a stern look and then excused himself from the conversation. "I'll be back in a minute," he replied to the other doctors.

"Come, on." Pamela tried to make him hurry.

"Don't call me that in front of the other doctors," Dr. Benson replied. "They'll get suspicious."

"Oh, I'm sorry _Dr. Benson_." Pamela replied. She had been seeing Chad for a while but he didn't want anyone else at work to know about their relationship. It hurt her that he didn't want to be open about their relationship, that perhaps he was ashamed since she was only a nurse. But she didn't have time to worry about that now. "I need your help. You need to see this patient right away."

"Where's the chart?" he asked.

"I don't have one. This patient is….off the record." Pamela replied. Dr. Benson gave her a quizzical look. She knew she couldn't explain the situation so she added, "Look. He's a friend of mine. Don't ask too many questions. Please, do this for me."

Dr. Benson rolled his eyes, "OK, Pam," and then entered the curtained off area.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Benson. Let me take a look at that…" he said, immediately spotting the wound on the boy's shoulder. He cleared away the gauze and as he examined it he asked him to explain what had happened.

"Right. You fell on a nail," Dr. Benson replied sarcastically. "Why don't you give me the truth?"

The boy was silent.

"This is a gunshot wound…Care to tell me what really happened?"

The boy was silent but the red-haired girl pleaded, "Please, help him. He refused to come but I made him."

Pamela then interjected, "Chad, just treat him."

Dr. Benson sighed and returned to the patient. "You're lucky. It looks like the bullet didn't hit any blood vessels. We should take an x-ray to make sure it didn't hit the bone. It looks like you tried to remove the bullet yourself?"

The boy had now dropped all pretenses. "Yes. I couldn't get it though."

"That's a pretty stupid thing to do. You probably made thing worse. Why wouldn't you come straight to the hospital? "

"I guess you can say that I'm afraid of doctors," the boy replied.

"Well, it looks like you're going to be all right," Dr. Benson replied as he cleaned the wound for the time being and reapplied fresh gauze. "I'll be back in a second. Let me just talk with the nurse for a moment."

He pulled Pamela aside. "You know we have to report him to the police. They're on the lookout for all gunshot wounds tonight."

"Please don't. I promise you he's not a criminal. He's a friend of mine."

"Yeah, well I guess he doesn't look like your typical criminal mastermind. You owe me for this, Pam." Dr. Benson added.

"Is he going to be OK?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I'll have to take an x-ray though to make sure," Pam gave him a worried look but Dr. Benson knew what she was thinking. "Don't worry. I can find a way around the paperwork. I've got enough friends in the hospital. We can treat him without anyone asking too many questions."

Pamela gave a sigh of relief, "Thank you so much, Chad."

"So tell me who is this guy anyway? He seems pretty important to you. He's not like an ex-boyfriend?"

"No. He's just a friend who helped me out a while back." Pamela replied.

"Well, at least tell me his name."

Pamela smiled, "You know, I'm not even sure."

Dr. Benson gave her another one of his famous looks. "You really are a piece of work, Pam. Only you would stick your neck out for some guy you don't even know."

Pam then smiled and muttered under her breath, "I'm just returning the favor."


	9. Meena

Meena Thakkar stepped off the bus and started walking the three blocks to her family's apartment. She had her headphones on and the music turned up and she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings. It was like any other day coming home from school. She didn't pay much attention to the sirens of police cars. That was nothing new for New York City. You learn to block it out, to just go about your business.

But then Meena heard something. It sounded like someone crying for help. They sounded desperate and in pain. She took off her headphones to try and hear it better. Then she realized that the voice wasn't coming from outside. In fact, it wasn't a voice at all. She was listening to someone's thoughts…and that person was in trouble. She didn't know where the cries were coming from, but she decided to follow the police sirens.

Meena was fourteen when she first discovered that she was psychic. She was in the middle of a fight with her parents and all of a sudden she realized that she could hear what they were thinking. She thought maybe she was imagining it, but as time passed she heard other people's thoughts as well until it was so loud, she had to practice blocking them out of her mind.

After discovering her powers, she did some research on the Internet. She concluded that she was probably a mutant. She felt embarrassed and ashamed and told no one about her skills. She didn't want anyone to know. But her powers kept getting stronger.

She soon discovered that when she was really trying, she could even control people's thoughts and actions. The first time she used it to convince her parents to let her stay out all night and then to forget that it ever happened. But the next morning, when she came back home, she was wracked with guilt. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to control people. The thought of having that kind of power, what she might do with it… it scared her.

She vowed never to use her abilities again.

She had gotten good at suppressing her abilities, and after a while, she was even able to forget that she was different.

But then, there was that day on the train. She and her friends had taken the train to go shopping. While they were talking, out of nowhere, a man with mechanical metal arms attacked them. Then Spider-Man crashed through the window of the train car. There was a fight between Spider-Man and the four mechanical-armed villain – who Meena later discovered was called Doctor Octopus.

At that moment, Meena tried her best to recall the abilities she had been suppressing. She concentrated on taking control of Doctor Octopus' mind. But under pressure and out of practice, she couldn't manage to use her powers. Thankfully Spider-Man saved the train, but it almost cost him his life. She wished she could have done more, but everything happened so fast. There he was on the floor of the train, unmasked. She tried to read his mind. Her powers were weak, but she was able to learn this much – his name was Peter, and he was scared. If all these people had seen his face, someone might learn his identity. And if that happened, the people he loved might be in jeopardy.

Meena tried to grab hold of the other passengers' minds, so that they would forget his face. She wanted to help him. But there were too many people on the train. One brave passenger, not much older than Spider-Man himself, even threatened the train so that no one would talk about the man behind the mask. She tried to focus her mind, to put power behind the man's threat. But she wasn't sure it had worked. She had failed again. After all the times she had wished her powers away, now when she needed them most, she couldn't use them.

Meena tried to push the moment from her mind. Whatever she failed to do before, she believed that this might be a chance to redeem herself. In fact, she was strangely suspicious that the events on the train were connected to the current cry for help. The voice in her head felt familiar.

She turned the corner and was stopped by a blockade of police cars. There were several cops attempting to control the growing crowd. A bit beyond, she could see a damaged building. The dust hadn't completely settled. There were ambulances and paramedics treating people. But something else was going on. There were several cops pointing their guns at something up in the building.

Meena approached one the cops. "What's going on here?"

"Police business. Stay back."

Meena took a deep breath and focused. This time with her mind, she asked the cop again, "What's going on?"

The cop looked at her transfixed. He replied, "There was an attempted robbery… Some guy who could send shockwaves out of his fists… Part of the building came down… Spider-Man showed up, saved a bunch of people. But we were told that he was part of the robbery… We were instructed to take him out. Someone shot Spider-Man. He couldn't have gone far… My unit is sweeping the blocks until they find him."

Suddenly Meena heard the voice she'd heard before in her head. It was him. She was hearing Spider-Man's thoughts: "Great, Peter. Just great. How are you gonna get yourself out of this mess? Okay, stay conscious. Stay conscious. Think, Peter." She could tell that he was in pain

"You're gonna let me pass," Meena said to the police officer. "And then you are going to forget everything that just happened."

Meena walked past the police officer and discreetly crept around the corner of a building. She didn't want to attract the attention of the other officers. She focused, attempting to locate Spider-Man's position. She ran down the alleyway, turned the corner. She was getting closer. All the while she could feel his pain. He had been shot and was losing blood.

She approached an alleyway. He was hiding here. She could tell. As she drew nearer, she could see a trail of blood on the pavement. She focused her mind. He was hiding in the dumpster. He must be too injured to escape. But the police would be sure to find him eventually.

Meena struggled at first, but she was finally able to open the lid to the dumpster. He had buried himself under the trash. Probably not the most sanitary thing to do with an open wound, she thought. He was thinking this, too, but he was running out of options.

He didn't move. He was scared and she could feel it. He thought that she was the police.

"I'm here to help you," she said out loud. Then with her mind, she said, "You can trust me. I'm a friend."

There was no response. She could tell he was going over his options. Meena spoke aloud again, "Please, I promise I'm here to help you."

Something stirred. Spider-Man made his way out from underneath the trash. He was weak.

"Give me your hand."

He'd been shot in the shoulder but he managed to give her his good arm. Meena pulled, and with his help, she managed to get him out of the dumpster, but they both fell to the ground. And there, staring back at them, were three police officers pointing guns at them.

"Freeze!" one of the officers demanded. Another grabbed his radio

Spider-Man pushed himself in front of her. Even in his weakened state, he was trying to protect her. But Meena had gained back her confidence. She had control of her powers now. She didn't need protecting.

She gave her orders aloud, reinforced with her telepathy. "Stop! You are going to turn around and walk away. You didn't see anything. You checked this alleyway and there was no one here."

Spider-Man watched in awe as the police officers turned around. One even grabbed his radio and reported, "Nothing here chief, we'll do a sweep of the next block."

"How'd you do that?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter." Meena surveyed the area around her. How were they going to get out of here? She could take care of a few cops, but not many more. She saw that there was a fire escape to the building.

She ran over to it and jumped up, trying to pull it down. She couldn't reach it. Spider-Man had slowly made his way over. She could tell he was weak – not just from the gunshot, but from his fight as well.

"I got it," Spider-Man said. Holding his arm steady, he was able to shoot webbing onto the escape. He then pulled hard and the ladder came down. He lost his footing for a moment.

Meena rushed to his side. "Do you think you can get up there?"

"Yeah, I think I can. But what then?" He laughed, "You seem to know what you're doing."

"I don't. I'm kinda making this up as I go along… is there anyone you can call for help?"

"Yeah, I think so."

With Meena's help, they climbed the fire escape and checked the building for open windows. They found one on the third floor. Meena opened it and crawled inside, startling an older woman who had been washing dishes. She screamed and dropped the plate she had been holding. Meena comforted her with her mind, "We're not going to hurt you. We just need to use your phone."

Once Meena was inside, she helped Spider-Man climb through the window as well. The woman stood there motionless.

"Use her phone. She won't even know."

Spider-Man hesitated for a moment, but then took the phone and dialed.

"Hello, M.J….Yes, I'll be alright but I need your help. I need you to pick me up. Can you get in a cab?" He paused and turned toward Meena, "What's this address?"

Meena asked the older woman with her mind and then repeated aloud, "285 Oakland Street."

Spider-Man hung up the phone. "She's coming. She'll be here in fifteen minutes." He then turned toward the woman. "Thank you, ma'am."

"She can't hear you." Meena had put her in a trance. She would not remember what had happened. In fact, when she awoke from her state she'd be confused about how she'd broken her plate. "But I can't keep her like this much longer. We should go."

Meena pushed Spider-Man through the woman's apartment toward her front door. She spotted a blanket folded neatly on the woman's couch. She grabbed it and folded it around Spider-Man. "Here. We're gonna need this."

"We can't just take that…"

"You'll return it. I know you will. And take off your mask. We don't want to attract attention while we wait for your friend to come."

He hesitated. She could tell that he was reluctant. "I've seen your face before. I was on the train, the one with Doctor Octopus. You saved my life. You're secret is safe with me."

He thought for a moment more and then pulled the mask off his face. They exited the woman's apartment and Meena relinquished her control of the woman's mind. They went down the stairs to the front entrance of the apartment complex. They could watch the street from the lobby window while still remaining hidden.

"I guess now we wait," Meena said. Spider-Man had covered himself with the blanket so that his costume was mostly hidden. Meena could feel his nervousness subsiding. He was still in pain, but at least now he felt confident that he was going to get away. Even though she read his thoughts, she asked anyway, "How are you doing?"

"I'll be okay. Thank you," he replied. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really appreciative, but how did you do all that?"

"I'm a mutant." She'd never told anyone that before. In fact, this was the first time she'd actually said it aloud. "I can read and control people's minds."

"You're incredible."

"Thanks." Meena blushed. "Are you a mutant too? I always wondered if you were." And though she could read his thoughts, it was much harder to get personal information that one keeps deep down in their consciousness. Besides, Meena felt it wrong to pry.

"No. There was an accident…it's kind of a long story," Spider-Man answered.

"Oh," Meena replied. "I thought you might be one. I've never met another mutant before. But then again, I've never told anyone about my powers."

"There are others like you out there. You shouldn't be ashamed."

"I know. I've read about this special school upstate. Supposedly they teach you how to use your abilities," Meena explained. "It's just, it scares me sometimes. I'm afraid of what I might do… For a long time, I tried to stop using my powers. I wanted them to go away. But then we were attacked on the train, and it had been so long since I had used them... I froze. I wanted to help you and I couldn't."

"You helped me now. I can't thank you enough." Spider-Man put his hand on her shoulder. "You shouldn't be afraid of your powers. Someone once told me 'with great power comes great responsibility'. I have no doubt in my mind, especially after everything you've done for me, that you will use your power responsibly."

This touched her. Perhaps she did have the self-control to know how to use her powers responsibly. "Thank you."

There was a loud honk from the street. They both looked out the window to see a cab had stopped in front of the building. "I've gotta go."

"You'll be safe. I'll make sure that no one sees you as you leave."

"What's your name?" Spider-Man asked her.

"Meena."

"Thank you, Meena, for everything. My name's Peter."

"I know." Meena smirked. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Now go already, before we get caught!"

She focused so that no one would see him as he exited the building. It helped that his mask was off and the blanket covered most of his suit. The police were busy sweeping the surrounding blocks.

She watched as he got in the cab with a beautiful, red-haired girl. The girl kissed and embraced him. It was nice to see that someone loved him in spite of the fact that he was different. She thought that, maybe one day, she'd find someone who would love her like that.

Meena hoped that he would be okay. She'd done all that she could do to help. Besides, it looked like he was in good hands. She felt proud of what she'd done. Perhaps she had the self-discipline to use her abilities for good. She promised herself to never use them for selfish or egotistical purposes. She would only use them when she could help others.

Meena looked at her watch. She was late for dinner. Her mother would be upset. She knew that if she wanted to, she could use her mind to manipulate her mother so that she wouldn't know that she was late. But that would probably be a misuse of her powers. No, she would accept her punishment, but all the while she would take secret pleasure in knowing that she had done a great deed.

As she walked home, she repeated to herself, "With great power comes great responsibility."

Author's Note: I've got at least 2 more chapters planned for this series. Also, I'd like to thank my lovely beta readers, Mark C and htbthomas. They made this chapter so much better! They're the best.


	10. Maureen

Maureen McNally was good at her job. No, she was _damn_ good at her job. She had made a name for herself as one of the top criminal defense attorneys in New York City and over the last year, she'd defended some big names. Maureen loved her job and never questioned what she did.

_Until that day on the train._

She had always believed it didn't matter whether her clients were guilty or not. The courtroom was a game and she knew how to play. She'd "won" many cases for clients that she knew were not innocent. But this never kept her up at night. It was the way the justice system worked.

When Doc Ock attacked the train, instead of cowering in fear, all she could do was laugh.

_Poetic justice, _she thought. After years of defending criminals, she was about to die at the hands of one of the city's most notorious.

Then _he_ came along. Spider-Man fought off Doc Ock, risking his life to bring the train to a stop, while simultaneously exposing his face for her and all the other passengers to see.

For some reason, putting a face to the man behind the mask changed everything.

She had more than a few clients who had been "stopped" by Spider-Man. Before that day on the train, her only opinion of him was that he was a menace who had humiliated her clients. Sometimes she was able to use this to her advantage, this illegal apprehension – no, assault – by a rogue citizen without the reading of the Miranda rights. That was all he was to her – a loophole in the game she had mastered.

After seeing the man behind the mask, who had risked everything to save a group of strangers, she realized that he was so much more.

For a while after that day, Maureen lost her edge. Perhaps she felt remorse for defending people she knew were guilty. But eventually she consoled herself with the fact that this was the way the justice system worked; this was the way the world worked. Someone had to defend these criminals, it was their right as an American, and she was the best person for the job.

Deep in her heart Maureen knew that this was what she was meant to do, what she was born to do. Everyone in the world had their place, like cogs in a wheel. They didn't choose it. Spider-Man was meant to stop criminals and she was meant to defend them.

It only took her a couple months for her to accept this fact and get over her self-doubt. Just like that she was back at it, the best of the best, without a second thought.

It seemed like any ordinary day when she walked into the courtroom that Monday morning. She had been preparing the case for a high profile client – the twenty-four year old son of the CEO of a major pharmaceutical company. Ironically, he had a drug problem and few months ago he was _allegedly_ involved in a shoot-out between two rival dealers that resulted in a wounded bystander. Spider-Man had come to the scene and apprehended the shooters, supposedly preventing the violence from escalating.

Maureen had prepared a strong case to case for her client and was ready for any thing the prosecution might throw her way.

Little did she know, it wasn't the prosecution that would throw her a curveball.

Her defense team had spent most of the morning reviewing potential jurors and interviewing them to see who would be the best for their jury. The file that came up next:

Peter Parker, a student at ESU and part-time photographer for _The Daily Bugle. _She read over the answer to his questions and he seemed like he might be what they were looking for in a juror. He was called into the back room to be interviewed by both legal teams.

And then she saw his face.

Maureen turned to one of the other defense attorneys on her team, "He's out."

"What?"

"Believe me, we don't want him on the jury."

Again, Maureen couldn't help laughing at the irony. She had spent 12 years at Catholic school, but the one thing they had neglected to mention was that God had a sense of humor. He had to for this to happen.

_Spider-Man had jury duty._

The various lawyers took turns asking questions to determine whether he'd be biased for the case. They didn't know what she knew. Of course he would be biased - he was involved in the incident.

Maureen then took over the questioning.

"So, Mr. Parker, is there any reason you wouldn't be able to commit to jury duty?"

"I'm very busy with school and my job…at the Bugle. Sometimes my boss calls me away without much notice."

That in and of itself was not enough to be excused from jury duty. Everyone had jobs they felt were important. But she knew it wasn't his job at the Bugle he was referring to. _Interesting_. He went to school and worked in addition to his "other" job. She could use this time to learn a lot more about him - you never knew when it might come in handy - but then again the other people in the room might start to get suspicious.

She knew that New York needed Spider-Man. He apparently kept pretty busy as it was and he didn't need jury duty to compound that. She knew exactly what to ask to get him off the hook.

"How do you feel about Spider-Man?"

"I'm sorry?" His eyes widened at the mention of Spider-Man's name.

"I'm sure the judge explained before that this case involves Spider-Man and we need to know if you are in any way biased about him?"

"I take his picture for the Bugle sometimes." His eyes shifted uncomfortably from Maureen to the other lawyers in the room. It was amazing how young he looked right then. It was hard to believe that this nervous young man was the same as Spider-Man.

"Anything else…any particular feelings about Spider-Man?" Maureen goaded him.

"I know the Bugle has a different point of view, but I'm a very big supporter of Spider-Man and I have to believe that if he was involved in the case he was stopping someone who was breaking the law."

Bingo. That would disqualify him.

"Thank you, Mr. Parker."

He was escorted back to the room with the other potential jurors. He didn't know it yet but he would not be selected for jury duty.

She turned toward her partner, "I told you we didn't want him."

"It's almost as if you knew it from the moment he walked in."

She smiled back at him, "There was something about his face."

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Author's note: Thanks to htbthomas for the beta! I have 2 more chapters planned and I hope I will do a better job of updating. Reviews fuel me, so maybe that will help me post faster. Thanks for reading! 


	11. Damian

Damian Robinson stirred the artificially yellow macaroni and cheese with his oversized ladle and, as usual, he couldn't help wishing for a break in the monotony. He worked in one of ESU's cafeterias three times a week to help pay for college. While it paid better than most of the jobs on campus, it was painfully boring.

Every day, as he stood behind the food counter, he wished for a little taste of excitement.

Damian thrived on the surprise and thrill of never knowing what was coming. He had always wanted to try skydiving – and although he loved the idea of the adrenaline rush, he was too chicken to actually jump out of a plane. Two semesters ago he started taking improv classes. He loved the spontaneity of it and that you always had to think on your feet. Improv had the thrill, the rush – all without jumping out of a plane.

He wasn't bad at it either and he'd done a couple performances with a group on campus. While it was fun hobby, Damian doubted that acting was in his future. He knew it was a tough profession to make a living at. Moreover, he wanted to do something meaningful with his life. Acting, while glamorous, seemed somewhat vain. His family had always taught him that he was here on Earth to make a difference, in whatever small way he could.

He was hoping to choose a career that would provide the adrenaline rush he loved while also making a difference in the world.

Eventually, he considered journalism, specifically television journalism. It had everything he wanted – the thrill of never knowing where or when news would break combined with the rush of being in front of a live camera. There was the added benefit that Damian could sleep at night knowing that a truly good journalist exposed injustice and fought for truth.

His career was still a little ways off – he was only a sophomore, after all. For now, Damian would have to settle for taking journalism classes at ESU, and in between, serving whatever the cafeteria cooked up.

Today, like most days, he wasn't paying much attention to the people that passed through the food line. Most of them were his classmates and he felt mildly embarrassed to be working in the cafeteria - even if it was one of the better paying student jobs. He tried not to meet people's eyes and remain somewhat distant as the people went by.

Damian snapped out of his haze when he recognized Peter Parker making his way through the line.

Peter never ate in this cafeteria. Damian suspected that he rarely ate in any of the cafeterias - he just wasn't on campus that often and Damian knew the reason why.

He first met Peter Parker last semester. Well, it would be wrong to say that he 'met' him. They were both in Journalism 101, the intro class, but Peter was hardly ever there. He'd only seem him once or twice in class and never really gave him much thought. At first the professor praised Peter and made him stand up in front of everyone – he already had more journalism experience than any of the other students with his job at _The Bugle_. But after he missed several classes, the teacher, and most of the students, mistook it for arrogance and laziness.

It wasn't until a certain train ride that Damian drastically reevaluated his opinion of Peter.

It was funny how every day he had wished for something to break the monotony of everyday life. He definitely got his wish that day. While Damian was always hoping for something exciting, he never wanted anyone to actually get hurt.

After Spider-Man stopped the train, Damian made his way through the crowd to get a closer look at the unmasked hero. He was shocked to recognize the face of his classmate. Damian could have sworn that Peter met eyes with him and maybe even recognized him from class.

His suspicions were confirmed a few weeks after the incident when Peter finally showed up again for class. Damian had approached him but Peter awkwardly avoided him as he rushed out of class.

Damian could tell that Peter didn't want to talk about it or bring attention to himself.

Still, Damian needed to speak with him. Enough time had passed now – it had almost been a year. And no one from the train had exposed him so far, so maybe he'd be more trusting.

Damian turned to his supervisor, "Can I take my break now?"

His supervisor nodded. "You got five minutes."

Damian saw Peter sitting alone at a table near the door. He approached him cautiously and mumbled, "Uh, hi."

Not the most brilliant introduction but he wanted to seem humble and unthreatening.

"Hi," Peter replied.

"We had Intro to Journalism together," Damian continued.

"Yes, we did," Peter replied.

"Can I sit with you?"

Peter clutched his tray tighter. "I guess."

"I can't stay. I've got to get back to the lunch line – but I wanted to introduce myself." He offered his hand to shake. "Damian Robinson."

"Peter Parker."

"I just want you to know… I got your back."

"I'm sorry?"

"I appreciate all that you do, you know, and if you ever need anything… let me know. I can't offer much, maybe just notes from class or something like that. But if there is anything… you let me know."

"I'm not sure I understand…"

Damian's lips curled into a smile. "I just thought that you should know that there are people out there who are really thankful and want to help… I bet you don't get thanked much?"

"No… no, I don't."

"I've got to get back to work. But it was good talking to you, Peter."

He didn't think Peter was going to say anything more so he started to get up from his seat. Before he walked away he heard Peter reply quietly, "It's nice."

"I'm sorry?"

"To be thanked."

Damian smiled in return.

As he made his way back to the cafeteria, Damian thought about what had happened that day on the train while they were waiting for the authorities to get them down from the tracks.

For a moment after seeing his face, Damian realized that this was the kind of thing that could break him into the journalism world – but he didn't want his start to come like this. He wanted integrity, class. So he quickly dismissed the thought from his mind.

After Doc Ock returned and took Spider-Man away, Damian heard the hushed whispers of the surrounding passengers. None of them recognized Spider-Man the way he had, as far as he could tell, but he knew that the hero's identity was still in jeopardy.

It was in that instant, perhaps seizing a much coveted thrill or maybe it was his subconscious desire to be like Spider-Man and help another in need, that Damian decided to put his improv skills to the test.

"Yo, everybody. Listen up."

He stood up on the seats of the train car and tried to look menacing as he continued, "Look. Anyone says anything about this, anyone says we saw Spider-Man's face, then I'm gonna find you. I know people, I can find out where you live and I will hunt you down. So you better not tell nobody, not the police, not your friends, not even yourself, that you saw Spider-Man without his mask. Spider-Man don't need any more trouble. So if I find out you've been talkin', I will make you wish you never were born."

He hoped his tough front would be enough to convince the passengers not to talk. Truth be told, he had grown up in the suburbs and he'd never been in a fight unless you could a shoving match in third grade. He was young and black – which was usually enough to scare some people – but he hoped his act would be enough to at least make the others think twice before talking.

As Damian found his way back to the cafeteria lunch line, he realized that his improv skills must be pretty good. He'd never heard about anyone from the train mentioning what they had seen.

Damian hadn't approach Peter to tell him what he had done for him. Peter saved people everyday and never took any credit. Damian just wanted him to know, if he ever needed him, that he had his back.

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AN: Special thanks to htbthomas and Mark C. I've got one more chapter planned and that will hopefully (fingers crossed) be up in the next few weeks. Thank you to all who have stayed with me through this series of one shots. Your support means so much to me! 


	12. Peter

**A/N:** Thanks to Mark Clark and htbthomas for the beta and their wonderful encouragement. And thank you to all the people who've read this story and provided such wonderful comments and support. It means the world to me that so many people have enjoyed this story.

* * *

Peter Parker applauded loudly at the conclusion of the performance. His lone applause echoed through the theater and MJ blush.

He was the only one in the audience.

It was just a dress rehearsal, but Peter knew he had a bad history of being "detained" on opening night, so MJ had made arrangements with the directors so that Peter could attend the rehearsals in case he had to miss opening night.

Her blushing stopped and she sent a smile in his direction. There was still some last minute chatter amongst the cast but she hoped that they were done for the day.

"Frederick, do you need me anymore today?"

"No, I think we're good for now. Nice work."

She climbed down the stairs and Peter made his way through the aisle to meet her. He was holding a bouquet of carnations behind his back. If they weren't so expensive, he would have gone with roses but MJ claimed to love the carnations just as much. He pulled them around so that she could see, "You were wonderful, MJ."

"You got me flowers!" MJ exclaimed. "You really didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. You did amazing today."

MJ smiled, "It was only a dress rehearsal."

"I couldn't tell. I hope to see the real thing when it opens on Friday."

"I know…but it's okay if you can't. I'm glad that you at least got to see it today."

He kissed her. "Are we still on for dinner at Aunt May's?"

"Of course."

He waited outside the dressing room for her to change and Peter remembered another time he had waited for MJ. It reminded him of a certain someone who knew more than most did about what Peter's unusual pastime. As they left the theater together, Peter asked MJ, "How is Carolina doing?"

"She's doing really well. She just landed a big role for an off-Broadway show opening in December."

"You still talk with her a lot?"

"Oh, yes. I've been busy with this show but we have lunch when I can. And she calls me all the time. I think she thinks of me as a big sister." And then she added with a grin, "And she just _adores_ you."

"That's good. She's a good friend for you."

They entered the cool autumn air and walked down the streets of New York. Peter looked around at the bustle of the city and realized how much he truly loved it. It was home. People claimed that New Yorkers were heartless; he had his moments where he believed it too, considering the crime and tragedy he saw every day. The _Bugle_ certainly liked to take that angle. But then again, kindness and compassion didn't sell papers the same way dirt and destruction did.

Peter knew firsthand that there were good people in New York. A little more than a year ago, he had been unmasked in front of a train full of people while he was fighting Doc Ock. At the time, he was too preoccupied with defeating Doc Ock…and saving MJ… He couldn't worry about the repercussions of being unmasked. But after things had settled down, he worried that someone might report what he looked like underneath the mask.

And not a single report had surfaced.

They had stood by him on that train. They had tried to defend him against Doc Ock. And after seeing his face, they all respected his secret. It reminded him that New York was still filled with good, honest people. This fact was what allowed him to keep going without getting discouraged.

MJ snapped him out of his reverie. "Do you want a cup of coffee? I know Aunt May will have some after dinner but I thought you might want a cup now."

"You know me well."

Coffee had become somewhat of an addiction as of late. It helped him get through his work and school as well as his _extracurricular _activities. He had started drinking it religiously.

They entered a coffee shop decorated with punk décor and techno music playing in the background. _Definitely not your typical corporate brand_, he thought. No doubt the coffee was more expensive, too. You paid for the ambiance.

The barista behind the counter was a slender girl sporting a bright pink apron and too much dark black eyeliner. She had a streak of purple in her hair and a nose ring that other bosses might have frowned upon, but this coffee shop seemed to encourage. Peter embraced the change of pace.

MJ and he approached the barista, who immediately went into her well-rehearsed spiel with a sing-song voice, "Welcome to Urbanity. What can I make for you today?"

But then her eyes widened and an expression came over her face. It was an expression Pete had started to grow used to but still feared. His heart stopped momentarily. It was the expression of recognition. He'd seen it a lot in the eyes of people on that train when he'd met them again.

"OMG! It's you! I can't believe it."

Pete cursed under his breath, "Not another one…How is it possible to keep running into them!"

But before he could continue to curse the fates and their fondness for hitting him over the head with irony, the girl continued with her rant.

"You're Mary Jane Watson! I'm your biggest fan. I've seen, like, all your plays. And I cut out all of the ads from the Emma Rose collection!" the girl exclaimed.

Mary Jane and Peter were both taken aback. Mary Jane put her hand to her chest in surprise and in true sincerity replied, "Why thank you! It's so good to run into a fan."

The purple haired barista's over-enthusiasm didn't seem to wane and Peter wondered if it was purely out of excitement to see MJ or some sort of caffeine overdose.

"I cut hair over on 83rd street, when I'm not working here obvi, but you would not believe how many people come in wanting to look like you. I do my best, but, god knows, I don't work miracles. And you're even more beautiful in real life!"

"Oh, my. Well, thank you."

"Can I ask you something?" She didn't wait for MJ's response but instead jumped right into her question. "Can I get your autograph?"

"Of course! What do you want me to sign?"

"Oh, crap. I have a million of your ads back in my room…"

"You know, I pass this place a lot. I could swing by with a signed headshot if you'd like."

"Oh, I'd love that!"

"No problem. My pleasure."

The girl's smile broadened and then there was silence. The couple was still standing there and the girl stared back. Then she seemed to realize that she was still working. "Right. Coffee. Here I am, acting a fool… What can I get you to drink?"

"Well, nothing for me. My boyfriend just wanted a coffee."

"You're Mary Jane Watson's boyfriend?" It sounded weird to hear the stranger say it with such excitement. Most people had at least a hint of disbelief in their voice but perhaps in this eccentric little café it was not so strange to see the model partnered with the science nerd. "Anything you want…on the house."

"Uh, thanks. Just a large coffee."

"Sure thing." The girl nodded and went to pour the coffee.

MJ leaned against the counter and smiled at Peter. "Well, look at that. I earned you a free cup of coffee."

"Yes, you did. I'm just honored to be in the presence of the great Mary Jane Watson," he joked.

She punched him lightly on the arm in response to his jest.

The barista turned back with Peter's coffee in hand. "Here you go."

Peter fumbled with his wallet as if to get out cash but the girl signaled for him to put it away. "No, seriously, this is on me."

Peter sighed a breath of relief. His bank account was low and every little bit helped. "Thank you."

As they entered the brisk autumn air, Peter took a sip of his coffee. Not bad. Not bad at all for a crazy little coffee shop with an overexcited barista.

"So how's it feel to be famous, Ms. Watson?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" and then she whispered under her breath so that the passersby couldn't hear, "Spider-Man."

"Well, that's the thing about wearing a mask. You don't get that many cups of free coffee, that's for sure."

"Well, in that case, it's a good thing you have a famous girlfriend." Mary Jane reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers as they walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

Peter reflected as he sipped his coffee and held the hand of the love of his life. New York wasn't so bad after all. The people here weren't bad either. And, in that moment right then, he was reminded it wasn't so bad being Spider-Man.

**THE END**


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